Golden Salvation
by arcandie
Summary: Loki's mind cannot be at ease. Split between lustful desire, and the harsh reality of his actual authority; he can at least find sympathy in the comfort of his right hand. One-Shot


Supper is incredibly difficult, seeing as my brain's only function becomes staring at the beautiful God across from me, compared to the actual consumption of food.

I manage to choke down a few bites from a stalk of celery, taking it with sips of red wine. I am able to glimpse up, in awkward intervals to prevent suspicion, and take enjoyment in watching my brother inhale legs of lamb, slabs of steak, and loaves of bread, before slamming mugs of ale.

Truly, a magnificent feat.

Though my stomach is content from the measly morsels of food i've consumed, there is a yearning ache throughout my entire body. Never more have I been so encapsulated by something. A deep, filthy passion that creeps through out my body, warming my veins and turning my brain into a irrational, muggy slob.

"Loki, child, are you not feeling well?" Mother notices my mind missing; I have been staring down at my plate, unfocused.

"My apologies mother. Please excuse me." I manage to grunt before standing up, and stalking through the corridors, before reaching my room.

I lock the heavy wooden doors behind me, before stripping myself of my dark green tunic, down to my undergarments only. I go over to the large glass windows, and open them. Drawing back the curtains, a brisk gust moves past, chilling the room and bathing it in the reflective moon's sheen. Inhaling deeply, the crisp air cleanses my lungs, as I sit on the window ledge. Gooseflesh covers me, and the hairs on my body raise, though the cold is not uncomfortable. It is refreshing, clean, peaceful.

As I look down to see my member; stiff and risen. I lean my head back against the wall, while my hand slowly crawls down, under the thin cloth and over my erection. My slender fingers begin to pad over the taut head, while my mind drifts. Drifts to somewhere warm, firm, and golden. Sunny, and bright. Not cold and reflective like this night. Not pale and weak like my body. No, shimmering and hot; a friendly paradise, with honeyed hair and bronzed skin.

Tense muscles would engulf my body, his firm lips over mine, he possesses me, protects me, in the lost yearning I crave. A body, a love, something that i'm missing. The flimsy flakes of my heart that have been chipped away, leaving me empty and frail. I am not loved, I am not strong, or proud, or brave. Each day I dread waking up, the impossible competition I seem to never be able to escape. And yet, each day, I wake up and am joined to this magnificent creature. A mighty, capable, vigorous force. Someone who is my brother, has treated me as such, with dignity and respect. The only one who has, who sees me as someone worthy, humble, and with modesty.

Though I am given the ability to see him , and though I admire the brotherly love the two of us maintain, it is also what ends to plague me. All of which we can be; brothers. Thor will only see me as such. Only love me as such. He is shackled to the ideal of the two of us being that, and that only. Brothers, and brothers only. My love to Thor being constrained to the ideal of brotherhood is something I cannot stand for. I doubt he cherishes anything we share as I do, but nonetheless, I do.

My body tightens itself, and a invigorating series of waves emanate from my loins. Tight, pasty ropes spurt from my phallus, and land over my stomach. I slouch further into the window sill, closing my eyes and relaxing in the afterglow while I attempt to even my heavy breath.

I merely acknowledge the fact that my brother is sitting in the bright, busy dining hall; clutters of people, loud chatter, and hearty food, he's tossing his head back in rumbling laughter. While I sit, on my windowsill, cold and alone, pleasuring myself into a cheap state of warmth. He's unattainable perfection, something I cannot help but crave and loathe. The two emotions overlap to my unfortunate demise, and though I sigh deeply with discontempt, I ready my hand to jerk at my member once more.

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading my first piece of writing! Though I often read, I hardly write, so this was a bit of a challenge for me. I know you hear it a lot, but feedback is greatly appreciated, I would love to hear your response to my first fanfic. I've been thinking about Loki/Thor recently, and imagine Loki retains these split, pent-up emotions, where he desperately desires this gorgeous blond stud, but is constantly haunted by the harsh realization that he cannot amount to anything such as Thor. Nonetheless, my mind conjured up this little piece of smut. Again, thanks for reading and cheers to my future on FanFiction!_


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